DAWN Chapter 1: Prophecies and Destinies

Chapter 1: Prophecies and Destinies
    Many years after the fall...
    The hot summer wind whipped across the desert sands, rushing down the canyon walls and into the human settlement.  Hundreds of tents sprawled across the canyon floor, a small staircase carved into the wall of the canyon itself snaked its way up to the Court of the Royals, which itself was also carved into the wall.  Further down the gorge, the sun blazed on a small shallow ravine where two children were.
    "Oh! I have an idea of a fun game we can play!"  Rayne smiled playfully and danced around his friend's sitting form.  The dirt, sand, and stones in the ravine made it one of their favorite places to play or just to talk secretly.  He skipped and, upon landing on both of his feet, turned and grinned at the girl, who sat on a stone protruding from the dusty ground.  The girl tilted her head curiously, her brown hair shimmering in the summer light.  Kerra gave him a half smile.
    "What is it?" she asked, and, seeing his mischievous smirk she laughed.  "We're not going to take the Head Acolyte's instruments again are we?"
    "No!  What we'll do will be a hundred times more fun than that!"  Rayne smiled as Kerra raised an eyebrow curiously and smiled. Rayne grinned and motioned for her to lean forward, and once she had he whispered gleefully, "we're gonna snatch Dad's rapier!"  He beamed at her but faltered under her shocked and horrified stare.
    "You're not serious!"
    Rayne scowled at her.  "Of course I'm serious," he whispered, "think about it!  It's the one prank that we've never been able to pull-"
    "But you can't be serious," spluttered Kerra, "what if we were to get caught? Imagine all the trouble we'd be in!  King Arakesh's war blade?! Stolen by you, the Prince?!"
    Rayne growled and kicked the small crown that his father always made him wear. Rayne just wanted to be normal; he didn't want the responsibilities that come with being the sole heir to the throne, he didn't want to be king, or any royalty for that matter. He would have given anything to be the son of a potter, or a farmer's son.  He was just tired of all the rigid rules and the mannerisms of royalty. "I've told you before not to call me that." He shot a look at Kerra that smothered the words that she had been about to say before they could reach her lips.
    Kerra quickly went silent and lowered her eyes. She had completely forgotten that calling Rayne a prince was, to him, the greatest insult one could ever mutter at him.  She tried to mumble an apology but nothing left her lips.
    Rayne glared at her and scowled. Kerra looked up at him apologetically, trying to communicate the apology she couldn't say. He snorted, turned away from her, snatched up his traveling cloak, growled a goodbye and swept off toward the Court of the Royals, leaving the Prince's Crown in the dust and Kerra crying alone in the ravine.
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    Rayne's nappy brown hair danced in the wind as he strode up the steps to the Court of the Royals.  He scoffed as he glared at his shadow on the stone staircase before him.
    Why can't anyone see me as being like any other boy my age?  I didn't ask for this..., he thought to himself.
    He turned and gazed down at the camp below, at all the other ten-year-olds playing in the dust and sand.
    Rayne felt a small tear come to his eye and quickly wiped it away, snorting at himself as he did so.
    "A prince mustn't cry," he muttered through clenched teeth.  He blinked again, deliberately working to rid his eyes of both his tears and the sand whipped up by the wind.
    Quickly, he turned away and continued up the steps, gazing up at the entrance to the Court.  He reached the entranceway and strode into the building carved into the cliffs surrounding the village, determined to reach the solitude of his chamber.  His footsteps reverberated off the walls, echoing throughout the hall.
    He turned down one corridor and down another without thinking, for he knew his way by heart, longing to be alone.  He reached his room and gave a sigh of relief, his back to the corridor.  Finally, I can be free...
    His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps in the hall and the voice of one of his father's Royal Honorguards.  "Prince Arakesh, you are needed in the Council chamber."
    His back to the guard, Rayne closed his eyes and ground his teeth. Will this never end?
    He sighed inwardly and turned to the guard, straightening his garments and looking the guard in the eyes.  Rayne spoke in a cool, steady voice, "If I am needed, then I shall serve."
    Rayne could tell that the man sensed his anger, for the man no longer seemed as sure of how he should proceed, and this filled a small part of Rayne with cruel joy.  Rayne brushed past the man, causing the guard to have to follow him through the halls, glad that someone else now felt the frustrations of royalty.
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    Rayne stepped into the massive chamber, booming with the discussions and the bickering of the High Council.  He stopped and stood by the entranceway, wincing at the noise being amplified by the curved walls and ceiling of the room.  Two large stone tables lined the sides of the room, each full of elderly men dressed in elaborate clothes arguing and discussing the important affairs of the day.  At the far end of the room, a lone man sat in his seat, which was carefully carved from the cliff itself.  He surveyed the scene, his eyes resting on Rayne briefly before he stood, speaking into the chaos.
    "My son." Upon hearing him, the council grew silent, turning to look at Rayne, who shifted nervously.  "Come, we have much to discuss."  Every eye in the room was on Rayne.  Rayne cautiously stepped forward and knelt in the center of the vast chamber, knowing that his father was straightening up in his chair, and gazing down at him.
    The voice of Rayne's father once again boomed out, "My son, do you know why you are before us?"  Rayne shook his head.
    "No father."
    The king leaned forward and looked at his son.
    "Rayne, my son, do you remember the Son of Man?"
    Rayne furiously racked his brain for information and, after a moment of silence, nodded slightly.  "I remember the stories that you told me when I was younger.  Is this what I am here for?  A children's tale?"
    The king said nothing, merely motioning for the boy to stand.  After a moment's pause the king spoke. "Rayne, the Son of Man not a tale.  He is the hope of our people. It is told that he would rise up and claim Tierra for mankind and raise our crumbling society back into the sun." Rayne watched and listened curiously as his father spoke. "It is more than what you are here for," the king gazed into his son's eyes, "It is what you were born for."
    Rayne nodded slightly, but he was still confused. He whispered, more to himself than anyone else, "but what does he have to do with me?" In the silence of the room Rayne's voice boomed out, rivaling his father's.
    His father looked at him and smiled slightly. "The Son of Man, that long-awaited savior, is you."
    Rayne's eyes widened in shock and fury. "What?"
    "Rayne, you must--"
    "NO!" Rayne screamed, his hands shaking with fury. The room went silent and Rayne felt a tear trail down his cheek.  His eyes burned as he glared up at his father.  "No. I'm no savior," his words echoed throughout the room, each word drenched in his pain and anger.
    "Yes, you---"
    "Then why would you lie to me?"  When Rayne didn't receive a reply, he shouted once more.  "Why? Why would you lie to your 'Son of Man?'"
    Before anyone could answer, he added once more, "I am no savior..."  He turned and marched toward the doorway that he had entered.  He stopped at the door and looked back at his father and growled, "And no longer will I be a prince... or your son."
    And with that he left them.